So it's been a few days since the last post. I'm still alive, and as most of you in my everyday life know, I've almost reached my limits for stress. My flight is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, at 9am. In ten and a half hours. That's assuming the snow doesn't cause problems. I'm hoping and hoping and hoping, and praying to the gods that I can get to the airport, get on the plane, take off, and land in Newark and get home with as few problems as possible. I have a back up plan if that doesn't happen. Either way, I'm on a bus at five am tomorrow.
I want to go home. That's been in the back of my mind since mum and nan went home last month. I want to go home. I love Ireland. There's so much that I'm going to miss. Such wonderful people that I'll be thinking of on a regular basis for months to come. I'll be doing something, and I'll have a random thought like, "So and So would love that." Or I'll come across something that only so and so would understand. I'll have great news, and the first person I'll want to tell will be here, in Ireland.
For a few seconds I'll be happy, and I won't be able to wait to tell whoever it was whatever it was. And then reality will sink back in, and there will be a sense of something missing, and I'll feel lonely and remind myself to email them or send them a message on facebook. But it's not the same as telling them in person. It never is. I can email them all I want, send a million messages and maybe even a phone call or two, but it's just not the same. Nothing beats face to face. Nothing beats telling them some stupid joke, and watching them laugh with you. So you try to tell someone else, and they just don't get it. The person you tell instead is not lacking, you're just connected to them differently.
For instance, I could tell you a story about something random like...about the lip gloss I bought while I was here. Go ahead an roll your eyes, but anyone who's tried to help me pick out lip gloss or lipstick knows that I'm really really picky when it comes to a color. To the friend who switched colors with me, you're gonna love it. To the woman who helped me pick a color before I left, this one's a bit more muted. And to the friends who have watched me pine over the same lipstick but not want to spend the money on it, I bought it. Yup, that's right, I caved and bought it. To the rest of you, I'm sure you don't care, but you see my point.
So many times when I first got here that I walked past something in a store or on the street and thought, "Now that's something ________ would love to hear about!" and been unable to share it with them properly. So I turned my thoughts to the friends I have here, and filed away the info for when I get home. Now I'm going home, and I have to switch back. But I know every time I walk past a girl in really tall designer boots, or see the movie Braveheart, or make something with hot peppers, or hear some really lewd joke, or have a gin and tonic, I'll be reminded of different people. Maybe someday I won't, but I'm not looking forward to that day at all.
I'm sitting here in my room dreading schlepping the suitcases down to the bus to go to the airport in the snow. Why in gods name did I buy two suite cases on wheels? They're hard to handle at the same time. But getting home will be worth the stress, lack of sleep, broke nails, and sore muscles. I'll get to see my mom and dad and brothers and cats and the rest of the family in the next few days, and I can't wait.
I'll get to sleep in my own bed, and hear the house creak when the wind blows and the rain in the gutter and the cats fighting and I'll be home. I'll be happy and I'll feel calmer and safer than I have in months. The little every day stresses of being in a foreign country will melt away, and I'll have to deal with the family stresses. I'll look back on my time in Ireland and miss it dearly, want so very much to come back. I don't know when or how, but hopefully one day not to far away, I'll be back. This isn't goodbye Ireland, rather I'll see you later, and I'm looking forward to it. For now, I'm clicking my shoes together and saying, "There's no place like home. There's no place like home" and looking forward to being there.